The 75th Hunger Games
by dismantled
Summary: Set in a universe where Katniss Everdeen never existed. Follow the story of Ambrosia, a young girl from District Nine, as she struggles to survive the Hunger Games. Will the odds be in her favor?
1. Welcome to District 9

I never felt more free than when I was making a delivery. I felt like the Queen of District Nine as I wove in and out of alleyways and jumped over fences. I was the ruler of those drab streets, the freedom bringer to the oppressed peoples of the district. District Nine was, despite the poverty that was seemingly more and more common each day, urban. I loved the alleyways that divided the buildings in the square, and the yards of the upperclass homes. The closer to the grain fields you got in District Nine, the poorer things got. The homes near there were shacks. I remember many of the residents referring to it as the "Crescent". An elegant name for a rather poor area of the District. I leapt over a few ramshackle fences of the poverty stricken homes. The fantasy ended as I found myself at the guardhouse near the amber sea of grain. Two peacekeepers were sitting inside of it. Their tall frames turned towards me as I came up to the gate. The peacekeepers were the assassins. They were out to end my reign as Queen of the District Nine streets. They stared at me for a moment.

**"Delivery for Albertus Esurio…"** The basket in my hand instinctively raised. Albertus was my father. A lowly farm hand. I was his daughter, born on a cold January night. I worked for my family's small cafe in the center of town. I was the delivery girl. The job kept me on my toes and it forced me to explore every nook and cranny of District Nine. My dad told me frequently that I was the fastest courier in all of Panem. His claim was unfound, even though it made me smile that someone thought of me in that way. One of the peacekeepers came out of the building and walked over to me. My skin began to crawl as the brutal man circled me once. His name was Lash. He constantly worked the guardhouse outside of the fields. I had heard he once snapped the neck of a boy would had tried to steal grain from the fields. Lash silently poked around in the basket I was holding. He pushed a few pieces of bread around before waving to the other peacekeeper at the guardhouse. The large gates cracked open and I quickly ran inside, eager to escape the peacekeepers presence.

Once again I was the Queen of District Nine. My feet clomped against the ground as I sailed through the fields. The golden stalks blurred around me as I sprinted through. It gave the wonderful illusion of sprinting through a golden tunnel. I stopped at an intersection in the massive grain labyrinth, listening closely for the sound of the workers. They always ate lunch at one of five places, rotating it each day. If I was right, they would be at the edge of the field. I turned and began to sprint once again. The wind tumbled through my dark hair. The ponytail it was in tickled my neck. I slowed down and carefully pushed aside some of the reeds before slipping out of the field. The sun beat down on my pale skin, causing it to redden slightly.

**"Ambrosia,"** My fathers heavy voice broke through the warm air. My named floated delicately form his mouth, he said my name as though he might break it if he said it too loud. He had been a farm hand his entire life. His large hands calloused and mangled. The skin covering his body was a deep brown color, like bread that had been baked just a little bit too long. I smiled at him and laid the basket in front of him. My father had aged quickly over the past few years. I watched as his wrinkled face bit into the pieces of bread. I stood there for a moment and watched him chew his food. "Delicious as always dear." His voice soothed me. My heart was pounding still from the run here. I always found that I pushed myself whenever I had to make a delivery to my father, it killed me inside to think of the old man waiting for me to arrive.

**"Bring anything for me?"** I spun around and found myself staring at the hazel eyes of Talon Goldluck. I had known Talon my entire life. We had gone to school together and had become quick friends. We met when we were five and now, eleven years later, we still weren't sick of each other. He smiled widely at me and tugged my ponytail playfully. I yelped out in pain before standing on my tippy toes and fluffing what little blonde hair he had. His hair was almost bleached from the and his body tan from the golden sun. I remembered the first time I met Talon. I was being bullied by a few girls from the grade above us. They had been taunting me about my pale skin when Talon had stepped in. Even at the young age of five years old he was kind and courageous. Talon's tall body stepped to the side and it obstructed the sun, allowing my fair skin a seconds release from the heavy sunlight.

**"Here,"** I reached into my pocket and withdrew a baggie. The clear baggie held a single oatmeal cookie. I sneakily handed it to him. Talon devoured the cookie before giving me a playful slap on the shoulder. **"Alright, I gotta run."** Talon knew why.** "I have to help mom prepare for…tomorrow…"** My voice faltered as I said the last sentence. The next day had been the reapings.

The next day would be the day my life changed forever.


	2. The Reaping

The nightmare always began the same way. I would be laying in my bed. The window next to my bed would suddenly begin to vibrate. The vibration would spread from the window into my room. The walls, floor and every bit of furniture in my room would began to violently shake. The only still thing in my room would be myself. I would try to brace myself against the shaking of my room but I couldn't fight against it. My bed would vibrate so badly that I fell out of it and onto my wood floor. I would bounce around like a ball, slamming into my veranda and then into my night stand before finally flying up and bouncing on my bed and then flying out my window. The window would open wide, like a monster engulfing its prey, and I would sail downwards and end up on the stage in the district square. The district escort, Dione Ryder, would be standing at the microphone and she would welcome me. Her shrill voice calling out that Ambrosia Dayfall was the female tribute for District Nine. Then, every single person in the crowd would begin cheering. They would scream out that the district was better off without her and that they hoped she would never return. The dream always ended in one of two ways. The most common was that she was dragged away to the train and as the doors of the train shut, she would wake up. Or that Talon would attempt to save her and a peacekeeper would shoot him in the back of the head as he tried to climb up the stage to get to her. Regardless of the ending, I always awoke sweating. This morning, the dream ending had been the one with the train doors shutting.

I rolled over in my bed. On the handle of my door was a simple white sun dress and a pair of white, shoelaceless shoes were sitting on the floor below it. I didn't want to leave my bed. Maybe I could just sleep through the reapings and no one would notice. My eyes shut for another moment before my mother was calling to me to get ready. My mother's voice was strained, and it sounded as though she had been crying. She cried every reaping. I was only sixteen, I had never taken tessera or anything, my name was only a small portion of the names within the bowl. There were kids at school whose names were in the bowl five times the amount that mine were. I should be safe. I dragged myself from my bed and slipped out of my pajamas and into the dress. The white sundress was beautiful, it fell right below my knees and made me look as though I was a goddess returning to Earth. I slipped my delicate feet into the shoes and quickly tied my hair into my all too familiar pony tail before leaving my room and heading downstairs.

"Hey kiddo." My dad's voice hit me as I walked into the downstairs. The usually pleasant smell of the cafe was absent. There were no deliveries to make on that day. I silently entered into my dads arms, soon I felt the reassuring presence of my mother join gin the embrace. We stayed like that for what seemed like forever. The warmth of our small family trying to block out the frost of the reapings. The hug worked for a moment before the sound of people shuffling outside of our door reminded us we had to hurry to the square so we wouldn't be late.

"I love you guys so much." I choked out. "I'll be fine, don't worry"

"I know you will." My mother's soothing voice cascaded from her lips. "When we get home after this, Ill make you a grilled cheese, your favorite"

Our family, in unison, exited our home. I glanced back and gave a mental farewell to my home, just in case. The walk to the square was silent, none of us had the energy to speak.

The square shared in our silence. The only sound was the mayor and the escort walking out onto the stage. My eyes drifted towards the stage and I saw Lucinda Bell and Rust Everest. The female and male mentors for our district. Lucinda was a brilliant and charming woman. She was still young and fresh faced. The Games had not changed her. Lucinda was District Nine's gem. Her glistening beauty a thing of desire for almost everyone in Panem. Rust was less well known. He was known for his quiet nature and his fiery red hair. My eyes lingered on Lucinda. I wondered for a moment how many other young girls like me she had lead to their deaths. Lucinda turned towards Rust and whispered something and that was the last I saw before I was herded into the cage that would hold me for the remainder of this horrible ceremony.

A screen lowered from the stage and President Snow appeared on it. He looked like shit. His skin sagged lowered than last year, if that was even possible. He raised up a small yellow card. Snow's lips curled into a smile as he looked into the camera.

"Hello citizens of Panem." His voice reminded me of a snake hissing. "As you are all aware, this is the 75th Games, meaning it is a quarter quell." How hadn't I remembered that? The Quarter Quell. The addition of a rule that would turn the Games upside and make them something even more terrifying. "This year," The President pulled his tie up. "The age limit of the reapings has been revoked." A gasp surged through the crowd. I notice that even Dione was slightly surprised by the announcement. "Eighteen is no longer the maximum age, and twelve is no longer the minimum. Anyone that is able to participate in the Games, may find themselves in them." What a horrible, sickening rule change. I found myself imaging how the parents must feel. They had survived the reapings all these years, only to be put in jeopardy once again. "This is to remind you all that the Games do not just effect your children, they effect you and you are all connected to it." President Snow casually gave one last smile before the television blinked off and raised back up. This years Quarter Quell would be disgusting. What if a ten year old got reaped, or a sixty year old? How could they possibly defined themselves.

Dione began to speak. The escort of nine was rather plain looking this year. She had fair skin and light hair that was made into a beehive on her head. The beehive on her head was rain bowed colored, each strand of hair a different color. Dione's face was almost empty of makeup, except for a dust of gold here and the colorful eyeshade she wore. Dione pursed her pink lips before she began to speak into the microphone. It was the usual Capitol dribble, something about the 75th Hunger Games, odds being in your favor and all that.

The boys selection would come first. Dione liked to try and be different, so she always called them first. My heart began to pound and I searched for Talon. I spotted his tall stature a little ways in front of where I was on the boys' side. I envisioned a bubble around him. The bubble would protect him from Dione reading his name. I gazed at the back of his head as he shifted feet. Dione's hand reached into the bowl. The bowl was massive this year, considering the changed rules. She could barely reach the top of the bowl considering how tall it was.

"Talon Goldluck."

The imaginary bubble around him burst, the remnants of it bursting into the air and then landing without a fight to the ground. I felt someone next to me touch my arm and that was when I realized I was falling back. I steadied myself and looked out into the crowd. Surely his father or older brother would volunteer? There was no movement in the crowd and I watched, helpless, as my best friend walked onto the stage and prepared for his death.

"Bellatrix Dayfall."

I surged forward.

Not her.

The name the escort had called was my mother's.

I burst from the crowd. My hands flailing and my body pounding.

"I volunteer


End file.
